Chapter Text
If someone asked her, Pansy Parkinson would say it was during the fourth year, the First Task in specific. Somewhere from the moment Harry Potter left that cave looking both terrified and determined, to the way he dove to catch the egg, something had changed inside of her.
Pansy realised she could be terrified and still get what she wanted.
She knew the war was brewing, the attacks on the World Cup had been a clear sign, not to mention the panicked state her father was in every time an 'old friend' knocked on their door. She knew what everyone expected from the Parkinson family. Sacred Twenty-Eight. Always a Slytherin. It was the same they all expected from the Greengrasses, the Bullstrodes, the Crabs, the Goyles, the Notts and of course the Malfoys. But no one bothered to ask them. No one ever bothered to give them a second option.
Pansy wouldn't have it. She knew what she wanted and what she didn't want. She didn't want an ugly mark on her forearm making her all but a slave to a man who even in death - or not so much death - had his followers still in chains. The only chains Pansy liked were silver ones around her neck, with stones preferably. So she carved her second option.
It had been a long and slow process befriending Hermione Granger. But by Salazar, it had been worth it. Because by the time her realisation came through in the shape of a green-eyed messy haired boy on a broom, Pansy had a clear path towards it. Towards him.
The Yule Ball had been another turning moment in Pansy's young life. It had been the first time she spoke with Harry Potter without feeling the need to curse his face. She had been pleasant, smiled even. There had been a joke somewhere and she left with the feeling of his eyes on her back.
But all of that had been a year ago. Pansy and her friends - the sensible ones like Daphne, Blaise and Theo - had slithered their way into the D.A. Interesting was a word for it. Hermione Granger was still her best friend but now Harry Potter was sometimes Henry, just to see his green eyes flashing in annoyance. It was one of her favourite pastimes. Her current pastime was annoying Weasley, the sidekick one of course, the others were just all very ginger.
They were currently practising impedimenta, which Pansy thought was very basic but maybe Gryffindors were usually slower than normal witches and wizards. And okay, she had to sidestep twice a misfired spell in her direction. Or maybe it hadn’t been misfired, Pansy thought, just some poor soul who thought they could get the better of her.
Pansy took the time to watch the group around her, it was true, the Slytherins were mostly ignored by the others and if it wasn’t for Saint Potter they’d have to partner among themselves only. She rolled her eyes as she fired another well-aimed Impedimenta at the dummy. Wasn’t Potter the embossment of fairness? But, more interesting than the practice was Cho Chang. Instead of working on the spell, the Ravenclaw Seeker was too busy battling her eyelashes and smiling at Harry every time he passed by her - and the boy was doing it plenty. Pansy guessed she’d see him adjust her grip later on. Pathetic if you asked her, to make yourself dumb for a boy.
After another hour or so of practice, they eventually moved on to firing at one another and it felt good. Truthfully she skipped the line twice just so she could blast Ronald Weasley. She-Weasley and Twin-Weasleys seemed an okay sort, why did the one she had to occasionally interact with have to be such an annoying bastard? Pansy shook her head at yet another successful Weasley-blast try. This time it was her eye that Harry caught and he was trying to hide his grin as if he knew exactly what Pansy was doing.
She had to ignore him because as it was, he had been Unbearable To Her Best Friend and all sorts of interactions with the Boy Who Refused to Die were cut, even if said Best Friend had forgiven him. Oh no, not Pansy. She would continue to ignore him.
Because she loved to see him squirm.
And perhaps Voldemort was onto something because Potter was truly evil. Despite her valiant efforts, she felt her smile threatening to appear yet again she quickly counted the other line and squeezed herself in front of a tiny boy with huge ears that shouldn’t even be there. Pansy waited her turn. Once more, there he was. “Oh, what a coincidence!” She said as she found Weasley on the other side. Unfortunately, Potter decided to take pity on his friend.
“You’re getting really good,” he said, beaming around at them. Pansy frowned, if she would look, she’d say Potter was getting a bit too attractive. “When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff — maybe even Patronuses.”
There was a murmur of excitement and Pansy could admit she liked the sound of that. She loved Hermione’s and Theo’s patronuses and had heard how big Harry’s was. As people began to clear, they all wished Harry Merry Christmas as they went and Pansy rolled her eyes again. So much sentiment. The Slytherins didn’t bother with good wishes and soon it was only Potter - who was collecting cushions from the floor and stacking them like a muggle -, Chang, Edgecombe and Pansy herself. She turned to leave, but then she heard the quiet, whispered “No, you go on,” from Chang to Edgecombe, and Pansy decided that she was going to stay and watch.
She pretended to leave and saw that She-Weasley had chosen to linger as well, but after getting caught, the younger girl quickened her steps and left. Pansy shrugged, she wouldn’t bother sharing the pillar so they could spy together.
Harry still had his back to the Ravenclaw in a ridiculous attempt to seem unaware. Pansy had to hold her snort, he was too tense to be even slightly true. But Chang didn’t walk to him, instead, she went to the wall where a picture of the original Order of the Phoenix was fixed and next to it, a picture of Cedric Diggory. The girl started to cry.
Well, that was anti-climactic.
But Pansy stood firm, even better than to witness Potter being a fool romantically, it was to see him being a fool emotionally. She was well aware he was immensely emotionally constipated.
“Wha — ?” He began, it was clear he had no idea how to approach her or even to finish that goddamn sentence. “What’s up?” He decided in the end. Merlin, their Saviour was a pathetic fifteen-year-old. He was lucky that he had nice green eyes and an okay-ish smile.
Chang shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I’m — sorry,” she said thickly. “I suppose… It’s just... learning all this stuff…." Pansy was a bit too far to catch the rest of the girl’s sentence but the way Harry’s expression had dropped and he turned to look at the picture of the dead boy, it was easy to guess.
“He did know this stuff,” Harry said heavily. And Pansy wondered if she’d learn more about that night. Hermione didn’t know, because the only information Potter had given her was how immensely rude he could be. And then when the pair made up, a long time had passed that if Pansy asked it would seem she was curious or interested. Which she wasn’t. “He was really good at it, or he could never have gotten to the middle of that maze. But if Voldemort really wants to kill you, you don’t stand a chance.”
She hiccuped at the sound of Voldemort’s name, and Pansy had to admit, she hadn’t gone up to that yet, but she didn’t call him Dark Lord in her mind anymore. It was hot the way he did without flinching like he was saying ‘Let him come’ and ‘I will call him ‘pal’.
“You survived when you were just a baby,” Chang said quietly. Pansy rolled her eyes, Salazar! And Chang was sorted in Ravenclaw!
“Yeah, well,” said Harry wearily, moving toward the door, “I dunno why, nor does anyone else, so it’s nothing to be proud of.” He didn’t shrug, because maybe he had finally listened to Pansy after the many times she told him it was unbecoming.
“Oh don’t go!” said Chang, sounding tearful again. And to Pansy’s luck, otherwise, he’d catch her eavesdropping. “I’m really sorry to get all upset like this... I didn’t mean to…” She hiccuped again. Merlin, if Pansy had known what a crybaby the girl was before, she’d have made more of an effort to get the boys throwing the Bludgers at her. “I know it must be horrible for you,” she said, mopping her eyes on her sleeve again. “Me mentioning Cedric, when you saw him die… I suppose you just want to forget about it…”
You stupid girl, Pansy thought, he wants to kiss you.
Potter remained in silence and Chang kept going, now seemingly deciding to change topics. “You’re a r-really good teacher, you know,” said Chang, with a watery smile. “I’ve never been able to Stun anything before.” Pansy had to accept this was a good enough first comment from someone who had been sniffing just seconds ago. Maybe that was how she had scored Diggory last year. Tears and praise?
But Potter wasn’t Diggory and she doubted the Gryffindor would be sold by praise. It was the other one with a praise kink. Pansy had to put her hand on her mouth to stifle a giggle.
“Thanks,” Potter replied awkwardly and Pansy shook her head. See! She thought, even I know him better!
They looked at each other for a long moment. Potter seemed rooted to the floor. It was clear what he wanted but he had no idea how to get to it. Chang was looking at him expectantly and Pansy had to shake her head again. Honestly, why was she even waiting? She was older than him anyway, what’s this naive ploy now?
Pansy narrowed her eyes at the quick movement in Chang’s arm, she took her wand out very discreetly and swirled it. Potter was still too busy being in shock that he missed it. “Mistletoe,” said Chang quietly, pointing at the ceiling over his head. Another point to the Ravenclaw. Maybe not that naive.
“Yeah,” Potter agreed dumbly. “It’s probably full of nargles, though.” Pansy wanted to groan.
“What are nargles?”
“No idea,” said Harry with an impressive quick Coming of Senses. Lovegood’s brand of nonsense had no place there. She had moved closer and she was finally taking some initiative, even when Harry’s mouth and brain seemed Stunned. “You’d have to ask Loony. Luna, I mean.” He said. Merlin, he was talking about another girl when he was about to be kissed!
He would have been massacred in Slytherin. She would have kissed him silly so he knew nothing but Pansy’s own name.
“I really like you, Harry,” Chang replied with a small laugh, it sounded a bit like a sob. Salazar, enough with the crying!
Harry nodded, which was good because Pansy would be mortified on his behalf if he had said something ridiculous like thanks.
Chang did kiss him, but she did all the work. She just took the last step and pressed her mouth to his. Potter stood tense and still. Move your hands! Pansy wanted to scream, touch her, for Morgana’s sake!
It was honestly painful to watch and Pansy guessed it was her punishment for sneaking and spying on other people’s conversations. But she couldn’t leave now. Chang pulled back after some minimal, pathetic lip work. There had been no tongue, what an utter waste. She smiled at him, Merlin if Pansy had been kissed like that she wouldn’t be smiling, no. “Bye Harry,” Chang said and turned to leave.
Pansy had to carefully manoeuvre as the Ravenclaw passed, so she wouldn’t be seen. Then, it was only her and Harry in the room. She had stayed quiet long enough.
“Well, that was miserable,” Pansy said, coming out of behind the pillar. Harry almost jumped and she saw the boy’s cheek grow a few shades redder.
“What are you doing here?” He scowled and Pansy pouted, she had to remember that he was Unbearable To Her Best Friend because she did find him more attractive with all that anger. Pansy had issues.
She didn’t bother with a reply, just walked up to where Harry was and stopped next to him. “Do you really kiss that badly that she cried?”
Harry scowled again and ran one hand through his face, he shook his head a bit, “She was crying before!” He said, “Because of Cedric! She was talking about him just before”
Pansy snorted, “What? Crying girls talking about their dead boyfriends get you hot in your pants?”
Harry looked at her in disbelief and Pansy watched, slightly confused as to why her heart seemed to be going a bit too fast, as he shook his head and a small smile appeared on his lips. What a curious thing, he liked her rudeness. “She kissed me.” He said.
“I saw that.” Pansy replied, “Believe me, it was painful. You just stood there! Like a statue! No surprise on why she cried!”
“Merlin shut up,” he said, but his voice was amused, “what's wrong with you anyway? Perving on other people’s business.”
“I mean, there has to be a bit more action to be considered perving, right?” Pansy retorted and she turned to face him. A crazy, ridiculous, terrible idea came to mind. He was Unbearable To Her Best Friend, she had to repeat a few times in her head, but no matter, the words found their way out, “Consider it as my war effort.” Pansy said, her voice quiet now as she took a dangerous step closer to him.
Harry was unmoving, as she knew he’d be. It worked on her side because he would probably take at least ten minutes to react.
He smirked. No. She thought, You stay dumb Harry Potter “What is it?” He asked and his tone wasn’t sultry no, maybe twenty years from now it would be. But it was enough to let her know he wasn’t as slow as he looked, maybe it had been the crying that set him off.
She took another step forward and took hold of each of his wrists. “I’m not siding with a hero that gets zero ladies,” Pansy replied and he smiled, amusement in his clear green eyes. A correction was necessary, they weren’t nice, they were fucking beautiful. She placed his left hand on her waist and the right one on her back. “Something has to be done. This is an extra class. Tutoring for the tutor.”
“How gracious.” He replied and the level of vocabulary impressed her.
She made his hands press on her, placing her own hands on top of his. “When you kiss a girl, you have to show her how much you want it.” She told him and pushed his hand on her back, so she was pressing a bit against him. “You have to touch her like she’s precious and—” his hands gained life and he squeezed her waist, “coveted.” She said. Pansy let go of his hands and trailed her fingers up his arms, “Touch her as if you are equally dying for it and too respectful to ask.” Harry copied the feathery touch on her back and she wondered if her own green eyes were as dark as his.
“What else?” He asked. Merlin, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape would thrive if Harry ever showed this enthusiasm for learning.
“When she’s close enough,” Pansy continued, making herself close enough. She didn’t need to tiptoe, Harry wasn’t much taller than her. Actually, if she were to wear hills, she’d be taller. Pansy couldn’t help the smile at the thought. “You lean in slowly and look at her eyes and then her lips because you don’t believe she has allowed you this privilege.” And Harry did just that, tipping his face a bit so their lips almost brushed, the frame of his glasses grazed her cheeks. She saw her own traitorous hands, betrayers of Best Friends, resting against his chest, close to his neck. Since they were already there, she felt impetuous to slide them up and grab hold of his neck and messy hair on his nape, “And because she is precious, you hold her face in your hands before kissing her,” she said last and willed Hermione to forgive her for snogging him.
Pansy didn’t leave him to his own devices and controlled the kiss. She had every intention of being properly kissed. The wrongness, the clear you-shouldn’t-be-doing-this or you-are-betraying-your-house-your-family-your-friend made her all much more willing to pull him to her and push her tongue inside his mouth and suck on his bottom lip.
Harry made a delicious sound that Pansy found worthy of the Gryffindor Sword. His tongue was cautious and she didn’t mind showing him what he was supposed to be doing, because while his mouth wasn’t the most expert, his hands were actually incredible. If she moved her tongue in one way or another, he’d grip her waist tighter or press her body closer to his with the hand that was still dangerously close to the curve of her ass.
Pansy let out a surprised moan when his tongue caressed her mouth and her grip on his nape faltered. Not willing to show weakness, she began to slow down the kiss until she could peck at him once, twice, before pulling back. His eyes were glassed - not a pun - and actually, a pun because they had fogged. She smiled and found that her reflection was looking a bit too fond. “And that’s how you do it,” she said, proud that her voice didn’t betray her, but her chest did. “If she’s not panting when you let her go then you haven’t kissed her enough.”
“You are very throughout,” Harry said.
“I'm an overachiever.” She replied and forced her fingers to let go of his nape. His hair was very soft. “You do well to remember Potter,” she added, “that the kiss doesn’t end when you pull your lips away, you still have to touch her tenderly, even if you groped her a bit during it.” His face flushes again and he lets go of the pressure, both hands now are on her waist, as if he’s holding her in place, his thumb is stroking her and she’s proud of his quick learning. “Show her that you are unwilling to let go of her just yet and that you would like to keep kissing her.”
“And how do I let her know that I want to kiss her again?” He asked.
Oh, boy. He was good. Pansy smirked and placed her hands on his chest again. He had a very nice chest. She leaned in his ear, “Bye Potter,” she whispered and then took a step back.
Pansy didn’t look back or Merlin forbids, wished him a happy Christmas. Because she was quite aware that no Father Christmas would be putting presents under her tree.
…
Christmas was uneventful. After all, the attack on Mr Weasley had happened before Christmas and because her father was quite terrified of unwanted guests, they had remained indoors in their new home for the entire holiday.
Which was why and only why she had forged an entire curriculum of classes that she intended to descend upon Harry Potter. Cho Chang had lost her boyfriend to a maniac, she deserved a better replacement than inexperience, the name Harry Potter be damned. Pansy was taking the war effort very seriously, she wouldn’t allow whispers of ‘how is he going to save us all if he can’t wrap his hands around a girl’s boobs?’.
And that was the second lesson. Pansy had the entire syllabus ready. If Hermione were to learn of Pansy’s organisation and planning skills, she would most certainly approve. But Hermione was Number One on the list of Can’t Find Out I Snogged The Unbearable One, so Pansy would have to move forward without peer review.
Pansy only observed in the first two weeks after Christmas, she wanted to see if Harry was applying his new knowledge and if he deserved to move on to the second topic. Pansy Parkinson wouldn’t be wasting her time if he didn’t show improvement.
Chang seemed satisfied and she could usually be found daydreaming and whispering to her friends, which in turn started to look at Harry as if he was some sex god.
Merlin, their standards were so low. Pansy would make sure to turn Potter deserving of this new attention by the end of the program.
Lesson Number Two was going to take place after the Open Quidditch practice. It was a new addition, in a fallible effort to make the four houses at least pretend to get along better now with the war looming around their heads. But it was good that it gave Pansy an excuse to wear her tiny tight shorts - muggle, but she would die before admitting that - and her equally tight tank top under her quidditch uniform. And for this particular practice, she had decided to go braless. All in name of learning.
The Seekers finished their training first and Pansy watched with hawk eyes as they started to put their brooms away and remove the uniform. Pansy, to gain time, trekked through the field instead of flying straight to the changing room.
Chang had gone to the girl’s room to change and because the boys were, well, boys, they were getting rid of their uniforms in the open, completely ignoring the door to the enclosed area that was designed literally for that.
Pansy needed to cause a distraction that lasted enough to have Chang changed and ready to go while Harry was still in his uniform. Of course, Weasley was a good one as always.
“Hey Weasel,” she called and was happy to know that only one - the right one - turned.
“Go away, Parkinson.” He said, already glaring.
“You do know that you are sweating needlessly right?” She asked and positioned herself very precisely between Harry and his shoulder bag. She fought her smirk. Bad luck Potter, not changing while I’m here. “It's not like you are better than McLaggen.”
Harry looked at the bag and her, and with a single eyebrow raised in her direction, sat down on the bench, his own ‘I will wait then’. He probably was making sure that she didn’t get any closer to Weasley.
“Shut up.” He said, “I have no time for you.”
“Uh-uh.” She cajoled, “Busy much?”
Harry was very slowly unstrapping his leg padding. Good boy.
Pansy threw a few more insults and Weasley replied in kind. She watched with a side eye as Chang left the girl’s room. She seemed to hesitate just a bit before shrugging to herself and leaving with the other girls.
“Are you performing much longer?” Draco asked, his tone bored and dead. She rolled her eyes at him.
“Go on, you are another very busy person.” She replied sarcastically, and added, “With how much you and your girlfriend talk nowadays.”
Draco only glared, he didn’t bother with a reply and as expected - honestly, boys were so goddamn easy - called the other Slytherin players to leave. Pansy was quite aware that she was the only girl in a room partially full of guys. It thrilled her a little bit. Again, issues.
“Ugh,” Pansy said, making a scene of sitting down on the bench in front of Harry and removing her Beater shirt. She kept her legs stretched so Harry would have to lean over them to reach his bag.
And because boys were single-minded beings they took a single glance at her chest and began behaving ridiculously at the sight of her nipples under the tight tank top. The Hufflepuffs were the first to flee and the Ravenclaws followed, not before throwing several glances back in her direction. Pansy pretended not to notice, making a show - or a performance as Draco said - of checking her nails and the arm padding for scratches.
“Let's go, Harry,” Weasley muttered, he had forgone changing and was ready to leave in Quidditch attire, Pansy sniggered, which only affronted him further.
“Go ahead,” Harry said, “I will meet you at the Common Room.” Pansy only watched, because she knew that wasn’t enough to stop Weasley. The boy hesitated and Harry, proving as interesting as she first deemed so that day on the Yule Ball when she first approached him, said “I want to talk to Parkinson.”
And that was enough. Weasley scowled something ugly and marched away. Then it was only the two of them.
Moving on with her performance, she got up and pulled down her quidditch trousers, revealing her little shorts. Potter was leaning back on his palms and watching as if he knew exactly what her plan was. Pansy grinned, she would allow that he probably had an idea. No boy was so full of himself that they’d consider getting a free groping of her breasts an event of their day.
She put some distance between them because she was not going after him. Pansy went to the wall where the school brooms were stacked and then pretended to study the cupboard with the many medals and photos of past players. Slytherin had so many of them. She saw him coming through the reflection on the glass door.
Harry reached for her waist and swiftly turned her so her back was against the door. Well, that was interesting. “I see your hands are being put to good use.”
He shook his head in amusement, “You do realise that you are impossible, don’t you?”
Pansy grinned, “How so?” She asked, getting comfortable against the door, arching her back a little bit, “I'm right here." She kept her arms on her sides because she decided to consider this his homework and wanted to see how far Potter would go on his own. He put his other hand on her waist when she arched her back and his palms were hot on her skin, the lack of proper clothing made his touch all the hotter. “Did she like it?” Pansy asked, her voice purposely low.
“She did.” He replied and tugged her to him, he still had his uniform on and was such a travesty that she had her body pressed against this horrid lion and all this red. “She made a very nice sound when a pulled her like this.”
Pansy smirked, because shehadn’t made a sound this time. “Did you get her panting?” Pansy asked and the boy nodded, she panted just for show, noticing his eyes leaving her face to follow the movement of her chest. Chang didn’t have nice breasts like hers. Pansy was even giving him a bonus. “Did you feel it?” She asked and bared her neck to him.
“No.”
“Why not? You should kiss your way down her throat the next time, feel her rapid pulse under your lips and—“ she stopped because Harry took hold of her face and tilted it to the side, exposing her neck a bit more to him. Her amusement was clear in her eyes, “go on,” she said, “leave me panting.”
He kissed her lips, crashing onto them like a parched man. Harry didn’t let her control the kiss this time and it was clear he had practised a lot during these past two weeks, Pansy could only make a sound of approval. She decided to give him something and splayed her hands on his chest, running her palms to the extension over the shirt and then tugging him closer when he bit her lower lip. What a teasing little boy. She refused to make a single sound and he smirked, he knew what she was doing.
Not to be outshined in her own game, Pansy took hold of his hand that was still on her waist and moved it up her belly and to her right breast. He groaned in her mouth and she squeezed his hand. Her chest was heaving, Pansy had been windswept at how good it felt to have his hand cupping her breast. Harry, showing that he had been paying attention in the beginning, moved his kisses from her lips to the corner of her mouth, to her cheek and where he licked at her jawline - there he scored a point because she honest to Merlin shuddered -, he smirked against her throat and then licked her again, all the while kneading her breast like it was a brioche.
“Potter,” she gasped and groaned in frustration at herself, “put that thumb of yours to good use, my nipple is right there.”
She felt his smile and the soft snort he let out on the juncture of her throat and shoulder, but he did put his thumb to use and he started playing with it over the fabric.
Good Salazar, what would she have to do to get him on her skin?
Pansy decided to show him and dragged her own hands to the hem of his shirt and tugged up, splaying her fingers on his abdomen and slowly running her nails. He made a lovely sound against her neck and then sought her mouth again. But he did get the idea, because he pulled down the strap of her shirt, freeing her breast and properly taking hold of it. She smirked against his lips and put her own hands on his pecs, rolling her thumb on his nipple. He groaned and pressed against her palm. Pansy pulled her head back and grinning found his face, his eyes were so dark and it was a tough call to decide who was panting more. “If she’s too kind to allow you to cup her tits,” Pansy said, “please do her a favour and put your mouth to it.”
His eyes widened as if the thought had never crossed his mouth and Pansy's only reaction - what the fuck?- was to arch her back again, presenting him with one uncovered breast.
Harry licked her nipple and she shuddered again, fucking boy. She had to remove one hand from under his shirt to grasp at his hair, pushing his face down to her chest as he began lapping at her nipple and playing with it. Merlin, she thought, a hundred points to Gryffindor indeed.
Her head hit the glass as she inhaled, which only served to fuel him further and she forced her hand to stop massaging his scalp and pull him by the hair. Harry Potter looked something wild. “When you are done,” she said, her voice shaking just a bit, as the air was still something difficult to process. “Tell her how her skin tastes and leave her with a kiss that promises something even better.”
He kissed her first, both hands on her neck, - as if she was something precious - and it was slow and languid until he lowered his right hand to pull her shirt up to cover her. He rested his palm on top of her chest and when he slowly, deliberately pulled away, he whispered in her ear, “It tastes fucking delectable,”
Papa, forgive me.
She was still a Slytherin and she had smirks ready for whatever situation, so when he leaned back to watch her face, he saw that and not the way she had rolled her eyes and begged Morgana to help her keep her hips from bucking against him. “Off you go now, Potter.” She said and pushed him away, he allowed her and she unglued her body off the glass door. No doubt her figure had been imprinted on the glass. “And do Chang this favour, will you?” She said, grinning, “Don't keep those hands and mouth to yourself.”
Pansy had to sidestep him to leave because he didn’t move and she patted his shoulder a final time before grabbing her bag from the floor and leaving the changing room. She knew she couldn’t enter the castle dressed like that because it was quite clear what sorts of activities she had partaken in just now. She transfigured her clothes enough for them to hold until she was safe behind the doors of her dorm room where she’d bury her fingers inside herself and rethink her life choices.
After all, it was clear she had to improve them.
…
In Pansy Parkinson’s opinion, it seemed that Cho Chang couldn’t take two steps anymore without sighing or giggling. It was so Ravenclaw to advertise it as if their need for recognition and attention overcompensated the call for discretion.
She had sent Daphne questioning, Pansy wouldn’t be caught dead asking another girl about their sex lives, but she had to know how far Potter and Chang had gone. It wouldn’t do to waste time on something that he had covered on his own. Her curiosity had only academic purposes. And if Daphne was more than willing to enquire, well, Pansy was resourceful like that.
Ravenclaws had loose tongues and it was oh so very easy to learn that they hadn’t moved further than groping the upper body and Pansy even learned that Chang had complained to Edgecombe that she didn’t know why Harry wouldn’t just touch her all over. Pansy grinned over her pumpkin juice, it was almost like Harry was sticking to their last session and waiting for the next.
Valentine’s Day was approaching and Pansy had to make sure Chang would have an enjoyable one. They would have to step up so Pansy could cover - or uncover - the world of the lower half.
Pansy Parkinson had fourteen days to get Harry Potter’s hands under her skirt. Literally.
Professor McGonagall gave the opening that she was missing. During their last transfiguration class, she had been so angry at how many students had failed to deliver their homework that she vowed to put whichever student failed to do so in detention with Filch. Pansy loved detentions with Filch simply because it meant zero supervision (after she knocked him out, of course).
So for Transfiguration that next day, she squeezed past her friends, shouldered past Weasley a bit too forcefully and sat down next to Harry. Hermione glared at the betrayal, but Pansy only smiled.
Harry didn’t say anything to her and allowed her to sit next to him. Good. McGonagall as always started the lesson with a lecture - a reprimanding one - and then began to collect their homework. Harry had his on top of his desk, just as Pansy had hers.
“Reducto!” She cast, turning his parchment to ashes. Harry swirled at her, his mouth open to complain and she quickly did the same to her own. Pansy blew the ashes from their desks and then swiped the remains from the desk with Harry’s sleeve.
“What are you doing?” He hissed and quickly glanced at McGonagall, who had just started on their row. “She's going to give us detention!”
She smirked, “Exactly Potter, at least one hour of uninterrupted contemplation of our wrongdoings.”
His eyes widened as he finally seemed to understand. He tried to fight the grin and had to look despondent when McGonagall stopped in front of them and saw nothing on top of their tables.
Their Transfiguration professor raised a single eyebrow at them in questioning.
“I'm sorry professor. I—” he hesitated, “forgot to do it.”
“And why’s that Potter? Too many extracurriculars for you to be able to see it to your homework?”
“No, Professor. I was certain I had done it, I guess I was mistaken.”
“It's clear that you are.” She replied curtly and then turned her icy glare to Pansy. She received it with her best desperate look.
“Professor, I swear I did it!” She said, her voice just a bit too strident. “I put it in my bag and everything this morning, I don’t know what happened! It was here!” She then began to glare at the group, pretending to blame someone for her missing homework. “He took it!” She said, pointing at Weasley. Harry choked next to her, descending on a fit of coughing that was an attempt to not laugh.
Merlin, that sound felt good.
“Don't be ridiculous!” Weasley of course fell to the bait, “how could I have taken it?”
“I don’t know! I just know that you did it! You and your grubby hands!”
“Miss Parkinson!” McGonagall reproached, “I doubt that Mr Weasley took your homework. But don’t worry, you will have company tonight as you clean the unused Transfiguration classroom, Potter will join you.”
“Professor, I—” Harry began and the professor simply shut him with a look. She was very good at that. Maybe she got her tips from Professor Snape.
“I was very clear last week. I’m sure you will have as much fun as Peeves had when he threw all those dung bombs in there.”
They both hung their heads and shoulders. A pair of very sorry students. Pansy had to take very deep breaths to not laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Filch, of course, was waiting for them after dinner. He looked in ecstasy that he wasn’t going to be the one to clean Peeves’ mess this time. He went over and over on how lucky he was that someone had been stupid enough to get a detention.
He showed them the mess and Pansy sighed, the things she did for learning. Filch sat on a stool by the door, with Mrs Norris on his lap. That wouldn’t do.
“Now what?” Harry asked, “He's not leaving us alone.”
Pansy rolled her eyes, “Of course he is.” She said and muttering under her breath, she cast Blaise’s favourite spell. It was one of his creations and Pansy was dying to try it herself. He had come up with it in a way to get Vince and Greg busy long enough so they wouldn’t spill their bullshit either to Hermione or to the Boyfriends Trade Mark - Blaise and Theo of course -. The spell was simple but ingenious, it made the target lash out in response to touch. So everything they reached would jump out of the way. Forcefully. “Watch and learn Harry Potter.”
She reached for the chair and with a screech, it jumped out of reach. Harry gasped and watched the scene with wide eyes. Filch jumped in fright and Mr Norris hissed in annoyance.
“What is this!” He shrieked.
“I don’t know!” Pansy replied, forcing a confused tone out. “I just touched it.” She moved after it again and once more the chair jumped, this time she had approached it from an angle that had sent the chair almost at Filch.
The Squib jumped again and let out a scream. “Fix this now!”
Harry, not one to fall behind, reached out for a desk and it went flying straight to Filch, who was barely quick enough to escape it. “I think they are cursed,” Harry said, shrugging in fake confusion. His it’s-not-my-fault expression was so good that Pansy had to look away and find another desk to send flying.
Mama, forgive me. She thought, Harry Potter is not bad at all.
“I don’t care!” Filch screeched, but he was by the door now, holding Mrs Norris tightly to his chest, “You deal with it and you clean this room spotless!” He barked, “I don’t care if you have to stay up the entire night!”
And with that, he banged the door closed behind him.
Harry turned to her, “Not to feed your ego, but you are something.”
She grinned and cast the counter-spell on the furniture before hopping on top of it. “Give me some credit, I’m brilliant.”
He walked up to her, “From something to brilliant it's quite a leap.” He said and with a flick of his wand to his side, sent a chair flying at the door. They heard another scream from Filch and a streak of profanities and his steps fading. Turning back to her, he put a hand on each side of her on the desk.
“I don’t like following steps.”
“That's quite clear.” He replied.
Pansy tugged him closer by the tie, placing him between her legs, his hips against the desk. “Put your hands on my hips.” She said and he easily obeyed. This time, she noticed, he didn’t bother to do it over her clothes, his hands went straight to her skin. In response to such good thinking, she wrapped her legs around his waist, “Lift me,” she said when the glimmer in his eyes became too much.
She had to hold onto his neck as his arms encircled her back, but he did lift her easily. She smiled at him and if she were to look in the mirror, she’d probably find that her expression was fond. “What now?”
“Find a wall, press me up against it.”
“You are quite bossy.” He said and she tugged at his hair. What lovely sounds he made. In response, he did press her against the wall.
“I know. It helps to get what I want.” She replied and then as if in showing, she lowered her legs and grabbed his wrists which were still around her back. “Next time you kiss Chang,” Pansy started and she saw Harry’s eyes darker, “I want you to do it with your hands here.” She said as she put his hands on her ass. Under her skirt, of course, because they didn’t have five business days for him to get underneath it.
He pulled her flush against him by her ass and she hit his chest with a gasp, “Am I learning properly?” He asked, his voice very low.
She nodded, “I'm a Prefect, you know,” she said, “you are doing so well that I could give you points.” She replied, her lips brushing his.
They started kissing again and Merlin, he was getting better time after time. His hands were quite busy exploring her backside, pressing, kneading, and going from her thighs to her back and down again. When he wrapped a finger in the strap of her knickers and gave a little pull, she could only moan in response and bite down on his lower lip.
Having unlocked another part, Potter set out on his explorations. His lips travelled from her mouth to her neck and breasts - which she had made available by unbuttoning her shirt. He had one hand on her breast, another on her ass and his mouth was doing something wonderful on the other breast. She wished he had another mouth just so he’d kiss her.
Her hands were busy as well because she had freed him from his tie and opened his buttons with an agility that even impressed her. Her fingers pressed down on his chest and abdomen and she decided that he deserved to be tasted as well. Pulling his head back up, his eyes flickered and she watched for a moment as she had Harry Potter by the hair looking as if she was going to destroy Voldemort.
Pansy intended to do some destroying of her own and latched onto his neck. He groaned. Loudly. She kissed and licked the skin there, before biting down slightly and running her teeth against the skin. “God, Parkinson.” He moaned.
“Goddess.” She replied against his skin and her response got her a squeeze of the parts that were under his hands.
Pansy trailed her kisses to his throat and Adam’s apple. She intended to go further, but he seemed to have different ideas because he grabbed her neck and slotted their mouths together.
Merlin, she felt her body shaking against his, her knickers were drenched and she was sure he could smell her. She knew she could. He picked her up again and pressed her against the wall, they both moaned into the kiss because the position made them a lot closer and she felt exactly how he was feeling. His fingers were squeezing the flesh of her thighs and she’d wake up with his hands imprinted on her skin.
“Is she going to be panting enough by then?” He asked against her mouth, and the answer was quite obvious because they both were breathless.
“Panting and shaking,” Pansy replied and in a moment of fondness, she pushed his fringe back from his eyes, revealing his scar and glistening forehead. He was indeed Harry Potter. He snorted and Pansy embarrassingly, realised she had said that out loud.
“I am.”
“And I am Pansy Parkinson.”
“You are.” And because he still seemed a bit wild - and very much hard - he added, “You have no idea how many times I've wanked since that day in the Quidditch room.”
She grinned, thinking about Harry Potter, Saint Potter, The Boy Who Lived, arching and panting with his hand on his cock, biting down on his lips so he wouldn’t shout out her name in the Gryffindor room.
Well, her mom always told her she’d achieve greatness.
Pansy pressed against him, feeling the outline of his cock under his pants. She leaned on his arms to whisper, “I touched myself too.” She said, “Buried my fingers so deep that I soaked my sheets.”
He thrust against her, an instinct and reflex. She smirked and licked his cheek before pulling back. He was smirking as well. “Did you think of me?”
Merlin, he left it so easy. She grinned and went down to the floor. “You have never touched a girl like that, why would I think of you?”
He wasn’t offended no, Harry Potter was dared.
“It's your homework, Harry Potter.” She said and began to walk away.
“And the room?” He asked, frustrated, but his amusement was there as well.
“You deal with it.” She said.
…
Her plan had a single flaw. And it was that it made her incredibly, torturously horny. She’d find herself more often than not wet and clenching her pussy.
It also didn’t help that it was clear that Potter was trying to do his homework. She watched for fifteen minutes as his fingers remained on the bench next to Chang’s thigh. Merlin the girl was almost on his lap, any inch more she’d have her knickers out to everyone in the castle. But he just wouldn’t touch her.
Pansy had to be the one to do something about it. It had to be. Valentine’s Day was just five days away and everyone was murmuring about Hogsmeade.
The poor girl was going to be fingered under a Madam’s Puddifoot’s table and Pansy was going to make sure it happened.
Binns was the best option. The ghost never saw anything and it was safe enough to keep her from overreacting. Or going too far.
Pansy was still debating the merits of getting Potter out of his pants in whatever shape or form.
She would decide on that after today’s lesson, depending on how well he performed.
Pansy arrived first at the History of Magic classroom and she went straight to Weasley's usual seat. Morgana help her, she was already leaking with just the thought.
Harry was a very smart boy and he sat down next to her in his usual seat, pretending to be suffering. He even kept Weasley from her nastiness by telling his friend straight away to seat with Seamus or Dean. Yes, Harry Potter is the benefactor.
Hm, Pansy wondered. Would she receive an Order of Merlin after she died? Would Harry Potter tell the Ministry that it was indispensable that she received one? Because she was going out of her way to make sure he was introduced to the world.
Binns waited for all of them to find their seats before starting his hour-and-a-half-long monologue. They were in the fifth year and by now almost every student would cast some variation of Muffiato or Concealment charm. More than once she found Blaise looking daze-eyed while Theo’s hand was suspiciously absent.
She did the same and her heart raced just a bit with the thrill.
“Poor Chang was spreading her legs earlier and you took no pity on her,” Pansy began, conversely. Potter didn’t reply but his hand seemed to find her thigh much easier when she pressed it against his.
“I wouldn’t know how to begin.” He muttered and fucking Salazar, was this a kink of hers? Because her knickers just got a bit wetter at the comment.
“Hold my knee,” she said, her body fluids another matter to be addressed later. Preferentially in ten minutes or so. He did as told and immediately his thumb began running circles on her skin. It was all too easy to move to the edge of her seat and spread her legs a little more. “Make your way up.” She told him. “Slowly, you have to make her ache for it. Grow restless and verging desperation.”
Sweet Merlin
His touch was feathery and she had the wild thought that he’d make an amazing harp player if he had been raised with the same tutors as she had. It seemed forever until his fingers brushed her knickers.
Her voice was very low when she grabbed his hand. “She's going to be so warm and wet for you,” Pansy said and led his fingers to her cunt, over the fabric. He made a delicious sound at the contact and she nodded, biting her lower lip. “You are going to be able to feel how much she wants you, that’s anticipation Potter.” Pansy pressed his fingers to her entrance over the fabric and she shivered. “You have to pull her knickers aside, exposing her pussy to you.” He didn’t help with that particular task and Pansy pressed her feet forcefully on the ground. What a terrible, delicious idea. “Here,” she told him, leading his middle finger to her clit, “it’s where you are going to make her feel so good, you can circle it, squeeze it and stimulate as much as you want until she’s trembling and begging you. If you do it right, she’s going to beg so much,”
Pansy could see it, her head thrown back, her chest heaving and her legs so wide open, at the mercy of his fingers. She did not doubt that he’d do a wonderful job.
“And in here,” she continued, once her breathing got back under control and she led his fingers to her entrance, “once she’s wet enough, you can press your fingers into her and pump her with them, one after the other, stretching her open.” She glanced at him and saw he was fucking hard next to her, there was a darker patch on his pant and she knew he too was leaking pre-come.
Merlin, she could destroy him. “Go on,” she said, her voice a whisper, “explore it.” And at that she spread her legs even further and leaned down with her arms on the desk, resting her head on her crossed arms.
He did as told, going from her clit to her opening at a slow pace like he was getting himself acquainted with her pussy. Harry seemed fascinated with how wet she was because he dragged moisture around with his fingers and she felt her legs spasming.
Harry started stimulating her clit, pressing the pad of his finger down and then moving his fingers in a circle. He was trying to gauge her reaction and she forced herself to keep as still as possible, but he was determined and slowly found a rhythm so good she couldn’t help but press down on his fingers. She turned her head to look at him and the moment he caught her eyes she rolled hers back into her head in pleasure. He was boldened by her reaction and Pansy had to bite down when his middle finger pressed inside because she felt like she was going to convulse.
Pansy held his wrist, she needed to hold onto something, she knew she was squeezing, but he didn’t seem to mind at all, because he kept pumping into her and soon one finger turned into two and good Merlin she was probably dripping on the floor.
Maybe people were right, maybe Harry was evil because he thrust his fingers deep into her, up to his knuckles and then pressed down on her clit with his thumb and her leg shot out under the table, she was biting down hard enough to draw blood as her orgasm hit her. She was breathing through her nose and in the after wave, she could only stare at the boy. “Maybe you will save the world after all.” She muttered and forced her body to respond to her, sitting up again and closing her legs to a resemblance of composure.
She would blame the orgasm because it took a few moments for her to realise that Potter was looking at his glistening fingers, Merlin, he had her come all over them. Pansy would very much like to have him licking his fingers clean, but because she couldn’t trust herself to not fucking moan at the sight, she took hold of his wrist as well and wrapped her lips around his fingers, sucking on them and tasting herself.
It was his turn to shudder and thrust involuntarily, she smiled around his fingers and noticed the patch on his trousers getting bigger, “You should do it yourself next time,” she muttered when she finished, dropping his hand and finally, finally; straightening to at least pretend to listen to Binns.
A much less successful class than her own.